


it won't hold me like you do

by cinderlily



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: It's break and Mike is planning on enjoying it, when he gets a phone call from Ginny asking for some help.Title from Ed Sheeran's "Gold Rush""I was told to put my job in front of you/But it won't hold me like you do"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a companion piece to injured Mike but that one will come soon. For now, have some angst?

It was the off season and Mike had had plans of doing absolutely the bare minimum for the entirety of it. His year had been, to put it lightly, a cluster fuck of epic proportions and he was exhausted and didn’t want to handle most things. Until he got a phone call. From Ginny. Who had gone out of her way to _not_ talk to him for about two months. He’d made himself ignore the way that ached, had long since taught himself _not_ to dial the damn number that he wanted to dial the most. 

But she called him. 

“Hello?” 

He heard a weird inhale. “Um. Mike?” 

“Did you hit the wrong person? Too many Mikes in your phonebook?” Mike asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone. _Months_. 

“No,” she said. “Look. Um. I have to get my wisdom teeth out because apparently the lower two are impacted? And Evelyn was supposed to be my ride but there is a huge awkward Sanders thing going on that I kind of started and I think she’s mad at me…” 

He’d actually heard about the huge awkward Sanders’ thing from Blip but he wasn’t about to fill in details to her if she didn’t know it. So instead he stayed silent. 

“They won’t let me have the surgery unless I have someone here to sign me out. All you have to do is sign me out and drive me home. I have all the food and stuff prepared. I know we aren’t on… um. Good terms? But I really need to get this done. Like. Now? So is there any way you can come here?” 

Mike looked at his watch. It was just a little past ten. He had some conditioning planned in the afternoon but really, he could do without that. In fact, that was more of a gift than anything else. 

“Where are you?” 

“I’ll send you the address on your phone. It really isn’t that far. The surgery doesn’t take long, they just knock me out so they don’t want me to drive or whatever. I got dropped off by an Uber, I hoped they wouldn’t notice. But I need a formal sign-out…” 

Mike frowned, Ginny sounded completely unsure of herself and that bugged him. Were they really at the part of their friendship where it was a question that he would do this for her? “Send me the address, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” 

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I’ll owe you one.” 

He huffed, at a loss for words. He heard the phone go completely silent and when he looked the address had popped up. He loved Apple Maps, it saved him getting lost in San Diego, even after fifteen years. According to it her doctor’s office was twenty minutes even with traffic so that was pretty easy. Thankfully he had on jeans and a t-shirt so he slipped on some shoes and got in his car. 

He looked in his rearview mirror and noted he looked… kind of dead to the world. The beard was not at it’s best and he looked a little… well. Haggard is the only word he could think of. He hit a button on his phone and called his Physical Therapist. 

The phone rang a few times before he got his usual greeting. “Hey asshole.” 

“Eric,” he responded. “Look, I have to…” 

“You best not be calling to cancel,” Eric said, and any other day he’d be indignant. He rarely did, only when his knee was really giving him crap but today he didn’t have the energy. 

He let out a sigh. “Look. Ginny called …” 

“ _Ginny_?” Eric said, in the same voice he might say ‘Lochness Monster’ or ‘Chupacabra’. 

“... She’s having her wisdom teeth out,” he continued. “And she called to ask if I could pick her up.” 

Eric made a thoughtful noise. “What time is she getting them out?” 

“Now?” He looked at the clock and then at the little instructions on his phone. He was maybe ten minutes out. “Her ride backed out and…” 

“Say no more,” Eric said, his voice having changed to a softer tone. “Family emergency. Just figure that Thursday we’ll be going hard to the paint.” 

Mike rolled his eyes. “I wouldn't expect anything less.” 

“Oh and Mike?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mashed potatoes, jello and milkshakes, but you have to spoon feed the milkshakes. Maybe put some protein powder in the shake. Oh, and greek yogurt with honey… You know what? I’ll email you. She’s going to be starving, her metabolism all out of whack.” 

He hung up and didn’t tell Eric that she’d already been set up for this because it just wasn’t worth it. Plus he was getting closer and he really wanted to get to the doctor’s office as soon as possible. Ginny had sounded so freaking small on the phone. 

Despite what his phone had told him he’d gotten to the doctor’s office in fifteen minutes. He wasn’t _proud_ per se, but it felt good to get there. He got out of his car and clicked the door shut. The Doctor’s office had an easy parking space, which was a miracle, and he hoped that he wasn’t too early. 

He walked into the office and went to the front desk. The woman sitting there looked up and her eyes went wide. “Mr. Lawson?” 

“I’m here for Ginny, is she…?” 

“She won’t be out for another little while. For now I need you to sign some paperwork and go over the aftercare guide.” 

He frowned but nodded.

She read through the sheet of all the rules and he was even more intimidated, because really. The first rule was that Ginny shouldn’t be left alone for the first twenty-four hours or so because she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself. He was sure that Ginny would kill him if he actually did stay with her, but he wasn’t going to leave her. Either way, he signed at the bottom and figured he could deal with the angry Baker later. 

Hell, even the thought of an angry Baker was somehow more satisfying than no Baker at all, which had been his life as of late. He sat in the waiting room with his phone, half looking at the ESPN app, which was mostly football bullshit, which he only half cared about. He followed the Chargers, naturally, but really nothing kept him in mind like baseball. 

Time passed and he was just desperate enough to go looking at his Facebook (the one his PR set up and he hadn’t touched in six months), when the door swung open and a woman in bright purple scrubs opened the door. 

“For Baker?” 

Mike got up, possibly a little too fast. His legs making that noise they did when he was out of practice. Maybe he shouldn’t have canceled with Eric this afternoon. Eh, too late. He walked towards the lady who smiled and opened the door wide for him. 

“Mr. Lawson?” 

He forced a smile. “Yup, that’s me.” 

“Okay,” she started walking down a hall. “Ms. Baker is just being woken up. She is going to be pretty out of it for the next few hours. The medicine is pretty heavy and she’s going to feel pretty funky.” 

He vaguely remembered getting his out, a half a lifetime ago. Though he wasn’t going to think that through much more because, well. Reasons. She led him to a little mini waiting space where he only had to sit for a minute before she was led out in a wheelchair. 

She was looking at her feet for a moment before the lady in purple touched her shoulder. “Ginny? Mr. Lawson is here.” 

“Wawson?” Ginny said, her voice slurred and she looked up. She was pale and her mouth was puffy, but she still lit up. “MIKE—ow.”

“Ginny, remember you just had your wisdom teeth out, you need to be gentle for a bit,” the nurse said softly. 

Inexplicably, Mike grinned at her like she was the World Series Trophy itself. “Yeah, Rook, you’re going to have to be quiet. Think you can handle that?”

The nurse gave him a look that was a mixture of annoyance and something he couldn’t quite read. He would say fondness but she genuinely looked like she might hit him so he kept his thoughts to himself. 

“I don’t know, Mike,” she said, voice still weird and slurry with cotton sticking out of her mouth. “’m pitty moufee, huh?” 

And then she laughed and cursed herself and laughed again. It was entirely ridiculous. The nurse put a hand on her shoulder and she half calmed down. He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in months and even through the pale coloring and what looked like blood coming out of her mouth he was never more thankful to see her. 

“Now, you signed all the paperwork?” the nurse confirmed. He nodded at her. “Where did you park?” 

He jerked his hand towards the front. “Not too far off. Three spaces down? Four?” 

She nodded. “I’m going to need you to come around to the back, there is a space labeled ‘Patient Pick-Up’. We’ll be waiting.” 

He nodded back at her, but hesitated before he went to move. Ginny looked so alone, even with the nurse by her side. He was not eager to leave her there with the lady who didn’t seem to be able to make her smile. He waited for a second but the nurse just stared him down till he turned and practically sprinted (as best he could) out of the small building and into the streets. 

By the time he got out back Ginny was still in the wheelchair but waiting outside and the nurse was beside her. When the nurse caught sight of the car he had a serious moment of personal annoyance. It wasn’t the best car to pick up a person after wisdom teeth removal, he was aware, but how often does one do that? 

He got out of his car seat and went around, opening the door and helping to lower her into her seat. She laid her head back against the headrest and smiled at him, wincing but still smiling. He signed a piece of paper, _again_ like she was some package from FedEX and the nurse gave him some extra paperwork. 

When he sat back down, he noticed that Ginny was poking her fingers in her mouth. “What the hell are you doing, Baker? You’re supposed to keep them in for a while.”

“Annoying,” she muttered. “Mouf taste weird.” 

“Well, keep them in your mouth a little longer.” 

She snorted. “Thas what she said.” 

He rolled his eyes and put his car in gear. He was seriously never going to admit to how much he missed her when a ‘that’s what she said’ joke was high class humor to her. She looked at his radio and twisted the buttons, something he would generally _never_ let anyone do but it didn’t matter because he was relieved she was distracted. 

They had to swing by the drive through Walgreen’s to get her meds filled, requiring him to finagle getting her insurance card and ID out of her. At first she said she didn’t have her wallet but then remembered it was in her back pocket and acted like she found the Holy Grail. 

The wait time being what it was, he decided it best to take her home and then come back for the meds later. She protested, saying she needed them and he gently told her he’d get them which was when she got indignant. 

“Wai, yewer gonna drop me off and weave,” she said, and he almost laughed in her face at the way her nose quenched up. 

“How about I get your meds and then ‘weave’?” It wasn’t what he was going to do by half, he was planning on staying at her condo but … well. She didn’t need to know that and once the painkillers kicked in she probably wouldn’t care. Hopefully. 

Ignoring the glare he got from her, he took the roads that his phone gave him towards the condo he’d never seen. She’s rented it, a wise choice see as how the season ended, but it was a step up from the crappy room in the middle of a hotel. 

He kind of knew the building wondered if he dated someone who lived there but couldn’t remember. Either way, he knew where to park and got around to the side Ginny was on to go and grab her from the waist and help her up. She made faint protests, but he knew they were token ones so he ignored them. 

“You’re going to have to tell me your code number, Rookie,” he pointed out and she looked from him to the little box on the door and then back to him. 

Instead of saying the numbers out loud she held up her fingers, sheepishly holding up a 4, 3, 3, and 6 in succession. He looked at her and then considered the box for a second as he dialed them in. Because there was a whole host of reasons that those numbers were the numbers she chose. It didn’t have to be significant, but her trepidation in saying it was kind of a giveaway. 

Her number and his number. Back to back. 

He tried to ignore the pleasant feeling of that. 

They walked into the building in silence, Ginny obviously not wanting to talk about it and him more or less trying to absorb the situation. She was on the fourth floor, so they had to take the elevator, which meant more awkward time in silence but he didn’t try and fill it. 

When they got to her door, she tried to use her keys but she was a bit too much like a drunk to get it right. He took them and realized she had the wrong key entirely and opened the door. She tried to stumble into the house on her own volition and made it to a nearby chair. He walked in after her. 

“You know,” she said, out of nowhere when she was kicking off her shoes. “I m’de the code as a _secret_ , Mike.” 

He nodded. “I caught that, it’s basically in the name.” 

“You wewern’t supposed to know,” she said, the annoyance seriously undercut by the slouch and the speech pattern. 

“Well, I’m _really_ good at forgetting things Rook, so don’t worry.” 

She muttered something, so garbled through the cotton he had no hope of hearing it. He was going to cut in but she looked up and her eyes had shifted from annoyed to sadness and he stopped himself. Then there were _tears_ and holy freaking shit he had _not_ signed up for tears. He had signed up for taking care of her, but tears? He wasn’t made for that. 

“Uh,” he said eloquently. “Rook?” 

He said something wrong, he got that, as his response got an even worse response, she was slouching seemingly lower in her chair. Impulsively he went over and slipped his hands under her, picking her up to the protest of his knees and his shoulders. 

He walked the four or so feet to the nearest couch and laid her down on it, letting her turn to her side and cry a little strangled by the mouth cotton. He remembered something about the length of time the giant cotton was supposed to be in but he honestly couldn’t remember if it was an hour or more and he didn’t think it’d been an hour. 

“Do you want some … water?” he tried. She rolled over so that her head was on the little pillow. “A blanket? I’ll get a blanket. That’ll feel. Good.” 

He got up and looked around and who didn’t keep a throw blanket in the freaking main room, what the hell? He walked down a small corridor and there was a door open which turned out to be Ginny’s bedroom. A decent sized but barren as all get out, except for a bed that was thankfully unmade. He grabbed the top blanket and he walked back out to the couch. 

She’d calmed, slightly, and he was relieved enough to give her the blanket and have her sniffle while he sat on the chair and stared at her like a time bomb. She wasn’t much for expression of emotion except for anger. He wasn’t used to sad her, which was… painful. 

Even if he got that her emotions were hyper right now, something else on one of the packets of sheets in his car, her face had looked devastated and he was feeling pretty responsible for those emotions at the moment. 

Once he stopped hearing as many sniffles he broke in. “Ginny, do you want some water?” 

“No,” she said, not looking up. “Fank you.” 

“Want a milkshake?” 

“No.” 

“Is there anything I can do right now?” he asked, somewhat more desperate than he felt willing to admit to. 

“Weave.” 

He sighed and pinched his nose. “I can’t do that, Ginny. I’ll do that to get your meds but you need someone here.” 

“Nah you,” she said petulantly. 

“I’ll call Ewe… _Evelyn_ on the way to get your meds. But you will have to deal with me for a while,” he gave in. “Deal?” 

She gave in with a half sigh and muttering. It wasn’t like he didn’t have things he could be doing, or … well. He _should_ be rehabbing. But her not wanting him near her was kind of a knife to the chest. She’d been happy for all of six seconds when he first got there. But apparently, that was that. 

He flipped the TV on to ESPN and sighed again at the overabundance of NFL, but then flipped to the MLB network and smiled. Old game, score. It was from maybe early 2000’s? New York versus Philly, so no chance of seeing himself in his youth, but he figured even Ginny would agree it was better than nothing. 

When he looked at her, though, he noticed that she was fast asleep, a little drool coming out of her open mouth. He laughed under his breath, walked over and took the blanket that was at her chest level and pulled it up a little. His phone buzzed in his pocket and it told him that the prescriptions were ready for pick up. 

He left a note in her sight line but doubted it would be used as she was pretty dead to the world. When he got back it would time to get the bigger stuff out of her mouth and maybe some water and meds if she needed it but for now, she was contently snoring away. 

As soon as he got in the car he flipped it to Bluetooth and dialed Evelyn’s number, one of the few wives he had on his phone from the time he organized a prank on Blip. 

It rang a few times before he got a very confused response. “Mike?” 

“Hey, okay, so I know you don’t want to hear from me…” 

“… Pretty much.” 

“Thanks, uh. But I was wondering if you could come to be with Ginny. Even though she CALLED me she isn’t too pleased about me being here.” 

There was a long pause one where he was only sure she was still there because he could hear the noise of a house with two boys in it in the background. “She called… you? She said she had it handled. I figured she called Amelia or like… Eliot. Anyone besides _you_.” 

He bit his tongue because he had a will to live but _ouch_. 

“Well,” he said. “She called me instead.” 

Or maybe last, but he wasn’t going to point that out. 

“Obviously,” she sighed. “I can’t… Blip is out right now. I don’t think bringing the boys over would be restful for her.” 

He exhaled, relief passing over him in a wave. 

“I’ll be there in a few hours, though,” she pointed out. “Can you not piss her off for a while?”

“I didn’t do anything to piss her off,” he bit out. “She went from happy to sad to angry. I didn’t… Do anything.” 

A distinct noise was made that he’d heard from his ex about two thousand times. “Yeah. I’ll be there when I can.” 

He missed the satisfaction of snapping a phone shut or slamming it down. Pressing the end button on his steering wheel just wasn’t the same. He turned into the parking lot of the Walgreens and took a second to calm himself before he went up to the drive through. 

* 

When he got back to the condo he found that Ginny was, in fact, still in the same position as she was when he left. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a few paper towels, some water, a bowl and more pads for her mouth. 

Without thinking, he knelt by her and put his hand on one of her shoulders. She startled with her one of her arms coming up to smack him directly in the nose. 

“Hey,” he said, in pain but trying to keep calm as to not freak her out. She looked at him, obviously confused, her hand at her mouth. “It’s time to take out some of that packing material and maybe up you on the painkillers, you ready?” 

She blinked owlishly but nodded after a moment. He grabbed the bowl and started the process that had been laid out, in painfully graphic detail for him. It was slow but steady and he went slower than probably necessary because she made a few noises of pain and he was a little anxious. 

When it was done she looked at him and blinked. “Hi, Mike.” 

“Hey, Rook. You feeling better?” 

“My mouf hurts. Mouf. Mouhf.” 

He smiled, handing her a pill and glass of water. “Yeah, I get it. Here, take this, small sips.” 

“Sorry I yelled,” she said sheepishly. 

He feigned surprise, putting a hand to her forehead. “Did you just apologize? Are you feeling okay?” 

She narrowed her eyes, and laid back down, her head at an incline. The game was still on silent, so he moved over to the place he was earlier. He figured she’d fall back asleep and he’d wait it out until there was some sort of save from Evelyn or night. 

“I had your poster as a kid,” she said. “It was above my bed…” 

He choked on some spit. “Rook, you might not want…” 

“NOT like that… or maybe a wittle, _w_ ittle… a bit? You w’re a power hitter, somefing I wasn’t. You worked hawd. You were Mr. Padre. You w’re super cute… I was fiffteen.” 

Mike winced. He was twenty eight at that point. Married. Living it up. The age gap was alway a nice smack to the face. Though he knew players his age with the same gap and older ones with much bigger gaps. It was just a little daunting to think about. 

“I fought when I started liking you it was just hewo woship. That it ould go way.” 

This was the point where he was supposed to stop her. He was going to stop her and it was going to be the right decision and he was going to feel like the bigger person in the long run. She was drugged as fuck and he was a mature adult and she was sick and… 

“But then that night we almost kissed I felt so… good,” she sighed. “It felt wight.” 

It had, for him too. Not that he was ready to admit to it. The closer they’d gotten to the kiss the more he felt like he was going to want to kiss her for the rest of her life if he was lucky enough to do it. But the phone call. And then Rachel, who … was comfortable. Had been his wife for a _decade_. 

“I swept with Noah.” 

“You WHAT?” he said, turning a glare at the side of her face. Like he had a half an inch of room to talk. 

She turned slightly and involuntarily groaned. She sighed. “It was okay. Good. It was nice. It was… just sex.” 

“Look, Baker, maybe we should talk about this when you aren’t on…” 

“But we don’t talk. Not weally any more. I got huwt, you didn’t come to the hospital. BUWGEW came to the hospital and I’d bawely talked wif him. I got a call from Miwwer in Pittsburgh. But you didn’t come. Why?” 

Truthfully? He had no reason as to why he hadn’t come, beyond the fact that he was so not prepared for her to be injured and they’d been on bad terms. He’d told himself he thought she might not want to see him, but that fell completely flat on it’s face when he’d heard in the group chat that she’d asked about him. 

He’d felt an inch tall at that moment. 

“You were recovering. You were mad at me.” 

“I needed you. You wer my guy. My fwend,” she exhaled. “I fought.” 

He knew she was talking through a haze of medicine but it was like she was going for the jugular. He inhaled. 

“Of course I’m your friend, Ro… Ginny,” he said. “I was just… I was confused. I liked you, but you’re… you. You’re Ginny Baker, the girl wonder. But you’re also, _Baker_ the idiot who forgets that she has a parking space allotted to her and parks four rows further down in an empty spot meant for people who work the concessions. Who hums to Katy Perry and Taylor Swift, so now I can’t turn on top forty without knowing the words and missing you. You’re thirteen years younger than me, I was married when you were still not able to _drive_.” 

She huffed at him and he rubbed at his face. 

“You are a pain in my ass, Ginny Baker. I knew it from the moment I met you. You are a pain who doesn’t even have the dignity to be just that. A self-important rookie? That I could have dealt with. But you’re good, and you fight for what you need to. You know what you want, most of the time… and even when you don’t you work hard to figure it out.

“I didn’t go because I’m not that guy. I wasn’t brave like you. I was afraid to see you hurt. What if you… what if you didn’t come back? I was scared I’d see you and I’d just know. When I heard it wasn’t as bad as it first seemed, fuck me. I _cried_. And I will openly deny that, so don’t try me.” 

She was quiet for a moment, then. “So why not call ater? When I got the condo? I sent you an invite.” 

“You also sent one to every member of the team, Gin. I didn’t quite know if you wanted me or if _not_ inviting the captain was just bad form.” 

She let out a noise like a laugh, followed by a hiss. “I am Ms. Etiquette.” 

He didn’t have a response so he didn’t fake one. He couldn’t stop looking at the screen. Eric Byrnes talking head. That guy. Seriously. 

“I woved you, Mike. O. I fought I did. You bwoke my heart,” she said, and even through everything he heard the pain. The pain that the Oxycontin in the bottle nearby would do nothing for. He leaned his head back a little on the pillow and made sure there was no way she could see the way his eyes might have misted up.

Cause maybe he loved her too. Maybe he still did. Who knew. Definitely not him. 

The silence lapsed for so long he wasn’t shocked to hear the familiar loud sleeping noises of a sleeping Ginny. He dared a look over at her and saw that she had moved her body to angle towards him, maybe she had been looking at him. He frowned and looked down at his feet. 

It was a relief when Evelyn showed up an hour and a half later, giving him death glares as he left the building. He’d used Ginny’s printer to print out the food ideas his trainer had given him and even gone so far as to make a shake for her and put it in her freezer. Not shockingly she’d had protein powder. 

* 

He got home and found himself tired and annoyed and fidgety. It was late enough in the day that a beer wasn’t that out of question, so he popped open a bottle and went to sit in his favorite chair. Blip, when they actually talked, called it his ‘Thinking Chair’ and would always act like Mike should get what that meant, even though he’d explained it was from a kid’s show that he would never ever watch in a million years. 

He looked out the window at the beautiful skyline. It was easy for him to convince himself he’d done the right thing. He was obviously not _helping her_ she didn’t want him there. But then again he found himself wanting to go back. He’d told Evelyn the last time she’d had her meds but he couldn’t remember if he remembered to tell her not to let her eat the shake with a spoon… not that Evelyn wouldn’t know that. 

The whole thing was messed up. Not talking to her and not talking to her, then hearing all of that? It had taken his brain from the normal amount of thinking about her (which probably wasn’t normal) to being unable to think of anything else. 

Where did she get off using the ‘L’ word? 

The whole point of that last day, the shitty day where not only did she get hurt but he fucked things up, yet again, was that they were not going to talk about any of that. They were going to compartmentalize. Which, not for nothing, he was absolutely fantastic at. 

He could compartmentalize his ex wanting to get back together with her fiancé, he could compartmentalize his childhood, he could even compartmentalize the very real possibility that if he didn’t pull out something amazing in the next season he was going to have to move or retire. But one stupid talk with Ginny and his neatly labeled ‘Baker is your friend’ box was smashed into tiny little pieces and he was stuck with the feelings that had escaped. 

Not fair, Baker. 

And he couldn’t even _call her_ to talk to her about it. Partially because she was probably still asleep, or awake with _Evelyn_ … but partially because what would he even say? There was a really good chance she’d hardly remember the conversation in the weeks to come and he’d be stuck with the memory. 

He pulled from his beer. His life was not going the way he had expected it. 

* 

A few days later, after brooding had turned to working out turned to resting because of the workout, Mike had gone back to mostly being himself. He’d put himself into some feelers for the MLB network. His first time hadn’t exactly been the start of his post-baseball career like he’d wanted it to be but it had gotten him a few ins. 

The doorbell rang as he was in the middle of reading an email sent to him from (HOT TAKES) asking if he wanted to be their guest for a couple times over the winter. He was more than okay with it, even if he was fully aware it was probably mostly due to his interest and the fact that the offseason rarely had garnered a lot to do it. 

He almost ignored it but they rang again and he figured he’d gotten a package he had to sign for. Except his door was made of glass, as most of his house was, so as soon as he turned the corner he saw … Ginny. Her face still pretty puffy faced and pale. Should she even be driving yet? 

“If it isn’t Ginny Baker, in the fl—,” he said, trying for teasing but she pushed passed him and he stumbled back a little before he was able to finish it. “No, please, come on in.” 

She turned to look at him, an almost glare on her face. “Where’d you go?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You left,” she said. “We were talking and I fell asleep because holy hell Oxycontin is a freaking one-two punch, but we were _talking_ and I wake up and EVELYN was there. With a milkshake. Where did you go?” 

He frowned. “I came home. You _asked_ for Evelyn, Ginny. I went and I got your meds and we talked but you’d asked for Evelyn so she came and I left. I figured that was what you wanted.” 

“Don’t ever assume you know what I want, Lawson,” she snapped. “Cause about ninety percent of the time? You have been _dead_ wrong.” 

“Look, should you be out? Shouldn’t you be on pain meds still? It’s been less than a week,” Mike said, walking towards her and feeling a weird twist in his gut. If she’d driven here unsafely he was going to kill her. 

She frowned. “I took an Uber, but I only took a half a dose last time. I’m trying to stretch it out. I don’t like how it feels. All fuzzy, I can’t keep my thoughts together.” 

“You had them pretty together the other day,” he muttered, but of course she heard it. 

“Yeah, another thing,” she said like he was able to follow along. “Who doesn’t respond when someone says ‘I love you’? Like, are you Solo-ing it? Cause you may be handsome but you aren’t Harrison Ford and even still you didn’t even give me an ‘I know’.” 

Mike shook his head. “Those movies came out when _I_ was a baby.” 

“I have a brother, Mike. I’ve seen those movies. And the prequels. And the sequel,” she said. “But you don’t get to avoid the question.” 

“What was the question?” he asked because he’d genuinely lost track of it somewhere around being told he wasn’t Harrison Ford. 

She crossed her arms. “I told you I loved you and you didn’t respond. Who DOES that?” 

“You fell asleep,” he frowned. 

“Not for like an eternity,” she flailed a little, putting her hands on out and then reigning it into her hips. “I mean, you could have even left me with a ‘No thanks’ or a ‘You’re too young for me’. Hell, even a ‘Puppy love’ would have at least been an answer, granted I would owe you a punch to the face.” 

Mike had zero response to this, honestly, he was still processing the fact that she was there, let alone the fact that she remembered everything. But she was looking at him like he was meant to respond with something and he was hoping that he was going to come up with words soon because he didn’t doubt she’d punch him. It was the off season, she wouldn’t even feel guilty. 

He had two ways to go with this. He could do the thing that came naturally to him, deny, lie and avoid… or he could actually be an adult about it. The first was so tempting, but the second would possibly wipe the look of pain off of Ginny’s face and honestly that was more important to him in the moment than anything else. It had been for over six months. 

“Of course I love you, Baker,” his voice wasn’t as strong as it could have been but the fact that he said it caught him off guard. 

She gaped for a second. “Like a sister… like a teammate… like… I don’t know. The weird friend love that guys usually avoid talking about?” 

“Like, staying up staring at the stupid phone after you left the bar, thinking about that _almost_ kiss more than I’ve thought about full on sex, hesitating in the hallway when I saw you because I missed you and hating the fact that I had to play three weeks without you type of love, Ginny.

“Blip will barely talk to me but he would chide me on the days that I would look for you and look stupid. Hell, even Anderson noticed and he wouldn’t notice if his _nose was on fire_.” 

She licked at her lips. “You slept with Rachel!” 

“You slept with Noah!” 

“Well, that’s over, okay?” 

“Same here.” 

It lulled again, she was a little shaky and he put his hand up and grabbed her arm. 

“Want to sit down?”

She half nodded and he all but carried her to the living room. She sat on the couch. “Haven’t been upright much, or eating much.” 

“I can make you a milkshake?” he brushed his hand on her hand and then pulled back. 

“Mike,” she said, soft and a little bit of a rebuke. “Really?” 

He shrugged. “You… I want you to be healthy and happy, Ginny.” 

“You just declared your love for me,” she said, the Cheshire smile inhibited by the still slightly chipmunk cheeks. 

“You made me,” he said, nudging her shoulder. 

“You could kiss me.” 

He tilted his head. “Have you thought that through?” 

She frowned and touched one of her cheeks tenderly. “Okay, well, you could kiss me _gently_.” 

He leaned over and pressed his lips as lightly as he could on her lips. She let out a moan and he pulled immediately back. She chuckled. 

“That was a good noise, Old Man, I know it hasn’t been that long…” 

He kissed her again with just a bit more force and she put her hand on his cheek, rubbing at his beard. He could have kept going but he only allowed himself a few moments before he pulled back. 

“Hey, what the hell?” 

“Later, Ginny,” he smiled. “When you don’t have sutures.” 

“No fun, Mike.” 

He gave her another quick peck. 

“I’ll save the fun for later. Now, I’m making you a milkshake and you are taking a full pill.” 

“You know, as a boyfriend, you would be _maybe_ allowed to talk to me about that…” 

He turned. He hated the word boyfriend. He was 36. But for Ginny? “Well then, _as a_ boyfriend…” 

The smile was worth it.


End file.
